


What if.. a Hobbit re-write

by Mileena



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, thorin oakenshield - Fandom
Genre: Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mileena/pseuds/Mileena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adding my OC to the story of The Hobbit.. Would Thorin Oakenshield ever find himself falling for an elvish woman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They meet

The dwarf looked around the room, his face a chiselled mask. Calm and emotionless, Thorin Oakenshield ordered ale and a plate, but kept a watchful eye on the men in the corners of the main room of the Prancing Pony. It was a cold night in Bree and his cloak had already been drawn around him. He nestled deeper into the dark wool fabric and felt the men’s eyes on him, sensed the danger in their glares. Just as it seemed that the men were going to make a move, Thorin’s hand moving to his sword, a man sat down at the table across from him. This man, dressed in a grey woollen cloak and a matching tall pointed grey hat, wasn’t menacing at all like the others. He had a pleasant face, framed by long grey whiskers and long silvery grey hair. A smile pushed at the corners of his mouth and his blue eyes shone with a friendly glimmer.

“They are watching you, Thorin Oakenshield. News of your claim in the line of Durin travels to all corners of Middle Earth.” he said calmly, and flagged the tavern wench over to order the same plate that Thorin had. “I am Gandalf the Grey” the older man introduced himself. Thorin looked him over sombrely, but noted with relief that the advancing men were making their way out of the tavern with the arrival of the grey wizard.

“I know who you are, but how do you know of me?” he asked suspiciously. Gandalf produced a parchment. Spreading it out on the table, the script was unknown to the dwarf. As Gandalf looked up with a sober look on his kind face, he pointed to the script.

“As I said, news travels to all corners of this Middle Earth. This is black script and it says there is a reward for your head.” Thorin sat back, shaken by the translation. He looked up at the wizard, who quietly continued. “I am a friend and I urge you to reclaim what is yours by right. News of your abandoned kingdom and the absence if the dragon Smaug who claimed it is spreading. The time is now for you to call out to your kin and lead an attack back to your homeland.”

“The roads will be treacherous” Thorin answered after more urging from the wizard to gather a party of loyal kin. “It will take some time.”

“Agreed. I have an idea that may make your travels a bit safer. A friend who believes in your cause. A well trained fighter, archer and ranger. Thorin’s eyebrow raised at this and his mouth opened to answer when Gandalf cut him off. “You will find no truer aim than this companion, Thorin Oakenshield. Their arrows fly true and their sword arm is that of a king’s guard.” Thorin sat back and nodded in compliance.

“Where is he then?” He asked, a little curious as to why this ranger would take up his cause. Gandalf looked about and motioned over a cloaked figure from the corners. Long, silent and swift strides quickly brought the mysterious stranger to their table. Thorin couldn’t make out much detail through the shadows cast by the drawn green hood. The figure sat next to the wizard, across from Thorin. Slender hands moved up to the thick fabric. Thorin was just noting how slender those hands were, when the cloak dropped, revealing long, dark hair, soft, pale skin, pink lips and slightly almond shaped dark eyes. Thorin’s mouth dropped as he realized this ranger was female. And not just female, he finally noted as he noticed the slightly pointed tips of her ears, peeking from the thick waves of her hair. “An elf.. “ he said flatly, a cold sternness coming over his face. 

“Half elf, and it is my pleasure. Heather of Mirkwood at your service my friend.” she said, stern but kindly with a slight bow of her head. Thorin carefully watched her as she waited for his response.

“An elf of Mirkwood is no friend of mine” came his curt retort. Gandalf looked puzzled, but the half elf shook her head. Her dark eyes met with Thorins.

“I understand your mistrust of my people. I was there when your people were exiled. I watched the chaos that Smaug reigned down upon the dwarves and the men. And I know that our king did not help you that day or when you came to him for aid afterward. Master Oakenshield, not every elf feels the same. You do have friends in Mirkwood. We would see you restored to power to rebuild the kingdom of your ancestors and bring the lands back to the rich and flourishing trade lands that they once were.” So that’s what was in it for her. Thorin was about to interrupt and ask her just that. He sat back silently, looking the half elf over, and then looking to Gandalf and shook his head.

“If I may. Your list of friends at the moment is quite thin. Until you reach your kin across the lands, this woman is your best chance to get through your journeys. And furthermore, your quest will take you through Mirkwood itself. Who better to navigate your path than a ranger of Mirkwood?” the wizard’s voice was matter of fact. Thorin would swear later that somehow the old man put a charm on him because otherwise he would never trust an elf, not even a half elf. Yet, he found himself looking her over and slowly nodding his acceptance. 

And so their travels began to visit all of Thorin’s cousins. Indeed, the roads were dangerous and dark. As was the news that his kin delivered, refusing to lend aid to a quest they deemed too dangerous to complete. It was after his last meeting that the two found themselves making their way to a place called The Shire where Gandalf had told them to gather at a house marked by a magic rune. Thorin had been angry for the first two days of their journey. The patient woman at his side kept her tongue and let him work out his disappointment. 

The truth was through their adventures, the two had grown quite fond of one another. Thorin learned what a skilled fighter that she was. He also found out her history. She had been found as a baby in the forest by two Mirkwood elves. Assumably the unwanted product of a human raider raping an elf, they noted her elven features and took her in to raise as their own. The king never saw her as an equal to his pure blooded elves, but allowed her to stay, and to train in combat when she was old enough, eventually working her way to the elite King’s guard. 

Heather had already known a great deal about Thorin but he filled in some blanks for her as they travelled along those long months. He was a skilled warrior, a descendant in the long line of Durin, making him heir to the Kingdom in the Lonely Mountain. The King under the Mountain. He had spent many years wandering after the capture of his home. Trying to reunite the dwarves, he was met with disappointment more times than not. Examples of this showed in their current journeys. 

She had been contemplating what a road ahead for them meant when there was a rustle behind them. Her elven hearing had detected the footsteps long before her companion and with a fluid movement, she drew her bow and arrow, turning quickly and releasing it into the darkness. Her motions were like ripples on the water as Thorin raised his arm for his sword in reaction. The sound of a body falling to the ground was followed by a cry of anger and a stampede. In the moonlight, three other marauders were just traceable in their improved vision. Her second arrow brought down another as Thorin rushed forward to match arms with a third. Heather drew her short swords and rushed forward, blocking the retreat of the fourth man. He swung a spiked club, knocking her aside as it just barely met it’s mark on her shoulder. Shaking off that pain, she rushed forward and her blade cut flesh on his abdomen. Hearing him cry out in pain, she rushed forward with both swords and crossed at his neck.

“Who sent you?” she demanded, but Thorin had already disposed of his opponent and had come to her rescue before he could realize she was interrogating him. His axe bit deep into the skull of the man. He uttered one word, that of dark landish speech. “Master” in the dark language. Heather translated it to her companion and they looked at one another questioningly. Looking around at the bodies, they moved closer together to examine them. The half elf looked up just in time to see Thorin’s eyes studying her. She smiled and felt a little thrill run through her as her dark gaze met his. “Something on your mind, King Under the Mountain?” she asked softly, with a smile. Thorin matched her smile, raising a hand to her cheek and parting his lips to speak when she quickly grabbed his long sword and thrust forward, slightly bumping against him. Confused, Thorin turned to find one last enemy, trying to sneak up on him in the darkness. Heather let go and the man slumped dead with Thorin’s sword stuck fast through his chest. They didn’t move for a moment, the dwarf turning back to Heather and smiling as his eyes grazed over the fine features of her face. His hand returned to her cheek, and uninterrupted this time, he leaned in against her, his lips finding hers. Their first kiss. That thrill ran up inside her again as she returned his kiss, their lips meeting and melting into one another, their tongues searching the other out. Thorin’s other hand moved to her long, dark hair and he twined his fingers through it. Her arms wrapped around his neck and they shared this magical moment until they were both gasping for breath. As first kisses go, this surely ranked amongst the best of them. 

Biting her lower lip as they stood in the cold moonlight, a smile on her face, a soft expression on his, Heather loosened her hold on his neck, but didn’t drop her arms. His moved down to her waist and his hands held her still. Their eyes searched one another’s, lit by the stars in the sky. Finally he found his voice.

“All my life, I would never have thought.. You are a valued warrior and friend. I have grown quite fond of you on our travels, Heather. I know this shouldn’t be, but…” His words trailed in a whisper as he moved closer for another kiss. Sending shivers through her, her lips eagerly returned his attentions. When their second kiss broke, he took a deep breath. “Stay with me. With my company.” he asked without a question. She smiled an almost girlish grin.

“I have grown rather fond of you as well, Thorin. I started this journey believing it was right for my people and for the good of the land. I still do, and believe that you are a true king. Of course I will see this through.” she smiled. As they basked in this new found feeling and bond between them, their arms still holding one another, Thorin kissed her one last time before breaking apart. He retrieved his sword, cleaning it on the frosty grass. They knew they had to keep moving. This Shire was close. Surely the others who had answered Thorin’s call were already safely nestled by a warm hearth with ale and good food.


	2. The company

Thorin and Heather hurried along in the chill night air. Already they were late from the attack on them and they didn’t want to keep their host waiting, whomever he was. Both of them stealing side long glances at the other, like a couple of silly youth. Heather smiled as they walked, lost in thought for a while.

The landscape became a little more hilly, but soon the woods ended in open fields and farmlands. The entire land around them seemed to brighten their moods, despite it being cloaked in the darkness of the night. Thorin and Heather both felt as though a great weight were lifted from them as they saw a few house lights on in the curious little dwellings, most sunk into the surrounding hills, or nestled between trees and bushes. Coming around a bend, they started to walk past a very nice looking home, this one nestled into the side of a fairly large hillside, with a big, round cheery coloured green front door. Lights inside twinkled in several of the windows. Heather came to a pause and smiled at the whimsical looking door. Her arm reached out and took hold of Thorin’s forearm gently and pointed.

“I believe this is your house, King under the Mountain” she said softly. Thorin paused beside her and squinted slightly, just making out a faint glow at the door. Her elvish eyesight had spotted the faintly glowing scratches of a moon rune on the door long before he would have. 

“I would have passed this house several times over had it not been for you.” he said, a note of fondness in his deep voice. Pausing before they approached the door, he reached out, tugging her hand and drawing her to him. Looking up slightly at her, their height difference barely apparent for she was a rather short half elf, herself, and Thorin was a strapping, tall dwarf, to his credit. 

“We have to be careful. You know by now, I have not been kind when speaking to and about your people” he said apologetically. “My company, they may be taken aback.” he stumbled over his words as he drew his arms around her waist. She chuckled merrily and put a long finger to his lips.

“Do you think I can not handle myself, Thorin Oakenshield? That your charms have me so awe struck that I will fall at your feet?” she teased him and he chuckled himself at the idea. 

“No, you will be fine. I’m sorry” he apologized and leaned up just slightly, his lips meeting hers again as she wrapped her arms around his neck for a long, hungry kiss before pulling back and they went on their way toward the cozy little home. With a heavy knock on the door from Thorin, they waited not long before the green door swung open and a smiling Gandalf met them, a host of dwarves rising from their seats behind him, and between the wizard and the group, a Halfling. Heather had heard of these small creatures but had not encountered one. She let Thorin greet him and then she bowed low with a sweeping motion of grace.

“Heather, at your services, Master..?” she ended in a question.

“Baggins… Bilbo Baggins” said the Halfling, who seemed slightly more in awe of the female Half elf than the Dwarf who had accompanied her. He smiled and seemed rather cheery. Thorin turned and took her cloak as he laid his down with hers. This action alone raised a bushy grey eyebrow from Gandalf and she silently gave him a bashful look. Nodding, Galdalf smiled with a merry twinkle in his eye but said nothing of the matter that went unspoken between them. Introductions were made.

“Let’s get our new guests some food” he said merrily, but the two refused politely. Taking a seat, the other dwarves looked at their leader and then to the woman seated beside him. There were questions left unspoken and Thorin cleared his throat, demanding their attention. He explained that Heather had accompanied him to lands far from this Hobbit dwelling. Dark lands and much less friendly ones than this cozy nook of Middle Earth. He shook his head solemnly when asked if any of their cousins had taken up the cause. They seemed disheartened but Gandalf urged them to discuss the task at hand that they alone would have to take up. Gandalf spread out a map and a key that he had for Thorin from his father and they all nodded and agreed to continue this quest. After more discussion, Thorin told them that Heather would accompany the party, which drew even more questioning looks from his kin. Ignoring their befuddlement, the talk turned to Bilbo Baggins. He seemed to go in and out of deciding to go with them. Even the small spell that Heather seemed to have on him had little effect as she talked about the riches he may have at the end of the quest. That made little difference to him. She told him of the great adventure he could have and went on to talk about the elven lands, which held his interest much longer than any other reasoning, but still the small Halfling didn’t give a definitive answer.

The firelight drew low and they dwarves gathered for a bit before turning in one by one. Thorin and Heather nestled together close to the embers of the dying fire. His arms moved about her waist as she leaned back against his chest. His right hand rose to absently run thick fingers through her long waves of dark chestnut hair. He lightly traced the tips of her ears, slightly rounded with her human blood. Her long fingers softly stroked the side of his leg as he nestled her against him. Much went unspoken about his disappointment of Bilbo’s reluctance. She knew the look in his eyes from their travels.

“Tomorrow we begin, but for tonight, it feels so good to just be here with you.” he softly whispered. His words made a warm feeling of happiness and safety flood through her. She pushed back the thoughts of her own homeland and decided she would deal with King Thrandual’s wrath at her leaving like this, and with his son Legolas, when the time came. She knew Legolas had feelings for her, but Thrandual would never allow him to be with a woman of only half elven blood. She knew that, Legolas knew that. And here, with Thorin, she didn’t have to ask for permissions. She allowed her heart to lead her.

Thorin leaned down, his left hand coming up under her chin and drawing her face upward. He let his lips gently kiss hers before wrapping both arms around her again and letting her lay her face against his strong chest. That’s how Gandalf found them in the morning and smiled merrily as they came to, moving to stand on wobbly legs from their cozy stance. 

As the darkness of morning dwindled to morning’s twilight it became apparent that the Hobbit’s answer was ‘no’ to joining them. With a defeated final nod to the rest to head out, Thorin mounted his pony as Heather climbed up on the beautiful grey horse Gandalf had acquired for her in one fluid movement. The odd couple of Dwarf and Half elf lead the line, Gandalf behind them, and the others coming in pairs to form the long processional. Early rising hobbits glanced curiously at the company but spoke not a word.


End file.
